I got up and had my bath and dressed, and went down to breakfast at nine o’clock as usual. There were a lot of letters on my plate. Letters from people thanking us for the dance. I skimmed through them, I did not read them all. Frith wanted to know whether to keep the breakfast hot for Maxim. I told him I did not know when he would be back. He had to go out very early, I said. Frith did not say anything. He looked very solemn, very grave. I wondered again if he knew.
After breakfast I took my letters along to the morning room. The room smelt fusty, the windows had not been opened. I flung them wide, letting in the cool fresh air. The flowers on the mantelpiece were drooping, many of them dead. The petals lay on the floor. I rang the bell, and Maud, the under-housemaid, came into the room.
“This room has not been touched this morning,” I said, “even the windows were shut. And the flowers are dead. Will you please take them away?”
She looked nervous and apologetic. “I’m very sorry, Madam,” she said. She went to the mantelpiece and took the vases.
“Don’t let it happen again,” I said.
“No, Madam,” she said. She went out of the room, taking the flowers with her. I had not thought it would be so easy to be severe. I wondered why it had seemed hard for me before. The menu for the day lay on the writing desk. Cold salmon and mayonnaise, cutlets in aspic, galantine of chicken, soufflé. I recognized them all from the buffet-supper of the night of the ball. We were evidently still living on the remains. This must be the cold lunch that was put out in the dining room yesterday and I had not eaten. The staff were taking things easily, it seemed. I put a pencil through the list and rang for Robert. “Tell Mrs. Danvers to order something hot,” I said. “If there’s still a lot of cold stuff to finish we don’t want it in the dining room.”
“Very good, Madam,” he said.
I followed him out of the room and went to the little flower room for my scissors. Then I went into the rose garden and cut some young buds. The chill had worn away from the air. It was going to be as hot and airless as yesterday had been. I wondered if they were still down in the bay or whether they had gone back to the creek in Kerrith harbor. Presently I should hear. Presently Maxim would come back and tell me. Whatever happened I must be calm and quiet. Whatever happened I must not be afraid. I cut my roses and took them back into the morning room. The carpet had been dusted, and the fallen petals removed. I began to arrange the flowers in the vases that Robert had filled with water. When I had nearly finished there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I said.
It was Mrs. Danvers. She had the menu list in her hand. She looked pale and tired. There were great rings round her eyes.
“Good morning, Mrs. Danvers,” I said.
“I don’t understand,” she began, “why you sent the menu out and the message by Robert. Why did you do it?”
I looked across at her, a rose in my hand.
“Those cutlets and that salmon were sent in yesterday,” I said. “I saw them on the sideboard. I should prefer something hot today. If they won’t eat the cold in the kitchen you had better throw the stuff away. So much waste goes on in this house anyway that a little more won’t make any difference.”
She stared at me. She did not say anything. I put the rose in the vase with the others.
“Don’t tell me you can’t think of anything to give us, Mrs. Danvers,” I said. “You must have menus for all occasions in your room.”
“I’m not used to having messages sent to me by Robert,” she said. “If Mrs. de Winter wanted anything changed she would ring me personally on the house telephone.”
“I’m afraid it does not concern me very much what Mrs. de Winter used to do,” I said. “I am Mrs. de Winter now, you know. And if I choose to send a message by Robert I shall do so.”
Just then Robert came into the room. “The County Chronicle on the telephone, Madam,” he said.
“Tell the County Chronicle I’m not at home,” I said.
“Yes, Madam,” he said. He went out of the room.
“Well, Mrs. Danvers, is there anything else?” I said.
She went on staring at me. Still she did not say anything. “If you have nothing else to say you had better go and tell the cook about the hot lunch,” I said. “I’m rather busy.”
“Why did the County Chronicle want to speak to you?” she said.
“I haven’t the slightest idea, Mrs. Danvers,” I said.